Wherever You Go, There You Are is the title of a book I run into often. So far, I have successfully avoided reading it. The title puts me off. If I'm stuck with me wherever I go, why do I have to read a book that from the get go dissolves any hope of discovering the new improved me? New Year, fresh start, right? Sure, kinda, sorta, but.... It's the buts that will get you every time.
All the ads/resolutions to lose weight, exercise more, (funny we don't see ads to improve our minds and souls and all that jazz, but I suppose you cannot really market that) and except for the determined few most of us end up just goin' on being who we've always been. Ourselves, that is. Good ole regular, flawed, face-for-radio, elastic waist, lazier than we know we should be folks.
Ah, not picture perfect.
I do admit, however, that I feel like I have accomplished something when I manage to push Publish on this blog or write a new scene in my novel. But, really, and this might be the crux of my lack of ambition, I feel fabulous when I see my kids and grandson and just share a laugh, a good conversation, a funny movie, get together with friends, hang out with my husband, all the regular, ordinary, wonderful stuff that really makes up a life. That level of ambition still nags me a bit, but, when it comes down to it, wherever I go, I keep running into myself.